


things we can and things we can't

by disastrous (wishingforlondon)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Best Friends, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cutting, Depression, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hate, Insecurity, Love, Male Friendship, Platonic Cuddling, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2017-12-08 14:00:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wishingforlondon/pseuds/disastrous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Harry is depressed, but all the boys can do is sit back and watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Louis

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to M and R, because there are things we can do, whether we mean to or not, and there are things we can’t do, even if we want to.
> 
> originally posted April 15, 2013.

_“Could somebody show me the kind of affection_  
 _That you only see in the movies, you know what I mean.”_  
"Your Evil Soul" – The Spill Canvas

–

Back when they were first formed into a band, Louis was determined to get to know each of his bandmates as well as he possibly could. And he did so, making lists as he went. He learned that Zayn had a specific order of doing his habits; Liam liked when his socks were all folded the same way; Niall liked when his guitars were organized by how often he used them; Harry liked when someone hugged him. They all had their fetishes.  
  
Louis thinks he likes Harry’s fetish the most, because he, like Harry, loves hugging people. And so the two somehow become some sort of cohesive unit, always wandering through the studio, laughing and hugging. It’s good, Louis thinks, having someone like Harry to lean on.  
  
When they get voted off, but still somehow manage to gain a record deal, Anne invites Louis over for tea one afternoon. Just Louis, but at this point, Louis doesn’t think of it as odd. Anne’s basically his mother now too.  
  
Anne tells Louis something he guessed at, something he sort of knew but never really wanted to.  
  
“Harry has depression,” she said quietly, but Louis heard her loud and clear. “He’s getting help, but I thought you should know, in case…in case anything happens. Better to be safe than sorry, yeah?” Anne chuckled, raising her tea mug to her lips. Louis stood there, unsure of what to say. “He’ll be fine, Louis. Just keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”  
  
Louis nodded. “I will. I promise.”  
  
So, Louis promised, and as his mum had always taught him, he kept his word.

–

At some point, Louis remembers holding a band meeting when Harry was out to dinner with his sister or something. He remembers telling the rest of the boys that, yes, Harry was depressed, and that, yes, he was getting help. He remembers telling them to treat Harry just as they did before. He doesn’t remember much else though.  
  
To be honest, Louis doesn’t even think that Harry knows that Louis knows, and that the rest of the boys know too. Or, maybe he does, but he just doesn’t care because it’s a part of his life just as his obsession with Coldplay is a part of his life.  
  
Without meaning to, Louis sort of adapted his emotions to Harry’s. If Harry was happy, then Louis was happy. If Harry was sad, then Louis was sad. It was a sort of bittersweet trend that all the fans loved, and that made for great publicity.  
  
Louis’ favorite moments are the moments when Harry can’t sleep. It would be 3:00am in a city they didn’t know the name of and Harry will crawl into his bed. Louis will start murmuring a song into Harry’s ear, and will relax as he watches Harry doze off again. It’s the sort of thing Louis used to do with his younger sisters, before he left for The X Factor and they started to grow up without him. 

–

When he first started dating Eleanor, Louis was a little worried that Harry might be annoyed. He wasn’t sure why, since Harry was the one who introduced them. Regardless, he told Harry eventually, and was thrilled when Harry said he was happy for him. If Harry was happy, then Louis was happy.  
  
Pretty soon, Harry is dating Caroline Flack, and Louis’ happy for him. Harry seems happy, and Caroline’s a nice girl. Louis doesn’t think she’s the right one for Harry, but he doesn’t want to barge in on Harry’s happiness. When they break up, though, Louis becomes heartbroken. If Harry was sad, then Louis was sad.  
  
Harry walked it off, though (“because he’s a fighter!” Louis often bragged to his friends from Doncaster), and returned his attention to music. He wrote songs with Niall, learned how to play the guitar, and gave his all during every show on the tour. Louis worried about him, though.  
  
The only problem with this superstar lifestyle they’d all been dealt was that when they were on tour, they weren’t at home. In other words, Harry couldn’t go to see his therapist or doctor or whoever he went to. Louis offered to talk to Harry, but Harry refused, said he was fine, and moved on.  
  
Louis knew he wasn’t fine, though. It was his duty as Harry’s best friend to know that Harry wasn’t fine, but what could he do? Every time he went up to Harry, to ask him how he was, Harry would say “fine,” and walk away. Yet, Harry kept dropping all of these hints that Louis saw, and that he knew the other boys saw too.  
  
Harry wasn’t fine, but what could they do when they were thousands of miles from home in a city that they didn’t even know the name of?

–

Finally, the tour ended, and Louis breathed. They returned to London, and Harry went to visit his mum for a few days. Louis spent time with Eleanor, saw his mum a few times, and hung out with some friends. He waited for Harry to come back to London.  
  
When Harry did come back, Louis rarely saw him, and when he did, they were busy recording and promoting their next album. When they had free time, Harry was hanging out with his friends that Louis had heard of but didn’t really know very well.  
  
Once, Harry dragged Louis out to club with him and his friends, but after a few shots Louis discovered he wasn’t really the type to be partying with Nick Grimshaw and his gang. The nights were long and wild, and while he could have a bit of fun, he didn’t really like alcohol poisoning that much. The next time Harry offered, Louis declined.  
  
As the months went on, and fall turned into winter, Louis watched the twinkle in Harry’s eyes slowly dim. They were being overworked, and they knew it. Playing at Madison Square Garden wasn’t as much of a celebration as they’d hoped it would be – even when they were flying back to London, Harry didn’t get to stop working. He was forced to fly back with Taylor Swift, because apparently that’s what superstars do. They fake having girlfriends because a superstar has to be dating a girl at every moment (which made Niall snort, because he was happy and single).  
  
The next time Louis saw Harry, he gave him a big hug and told him to go see his doctor or therapist, or whoever it was he talked to. He told Harry he’d take care of management, and that Harry just needed to take care of himself. Harry nodded, packed his bags, and drove up to Holmes Chapel for the weekend.  
That day, Louis was thankful. Regardless of what anyone said, their management wasn’t evil. They gave Harry time, as much as he needed, to become himself again, and to talk things over with someone who could help him bring back the twinkle in his eyes.  
  
Louis wished he could’ve helped more, though. He was Harry’s best friend. He was there during the long nights on the winding roads in the middle of North America. He was there during the long flights between continents. He was there during the short nights when they were at home, lying in a flat in London. He was always there, but it seemed Harry didn’t realize it.  
  
Looking back, Louis hoped he made all the right decisions. He wouldn’t want to screw up his friendship with Harry – Harry meant the world to him. If Harry was happy, Louis was happy.


	2. Zayn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to M and R, because there are things we can do, whether we mean to or not, and there are things we can’t do, even if we want to.

_“And there will come a time, you’ll see, with no more tears._  
 _And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.”_  
"After The Storm - Mumford  & Sons

–

Zayn likes to think of himself as a very welcoming, nonjudgmental person. In all honesty, he tries really, really hard to be. He doesn’t judge the homeless residents of London, but instead wonders why they’re homeless. They deserve just as much as he does, he’s sure, so why does he get the comfort of knowing where his next meal will come from and where he’ll sleep that night? He doesn’t judge the eardrum-shattering teenage girls he meets everyday, although he’d really like to. What Zayn prides himself most of, though, is that he doesn’t judge his friends.  


He learned early on in life that if you judge someone based on their appearance, you often get the wrong impression. It was something close to home for him, what with all the hate he received simply because of his skin tone. The first time he heard a racial slur used against him, he swore to himself that he would never judge someone’s character based on what they look like.  


This is why he didn’t question Harry when he saw the scars and cuts on his arms.  


Zayn figured that if Harry wanted him to know the wounds were there, then he’d tell him. Zayn had never been one for pestering and prying, and so he lived with it, staring dazed at the countless bracelets on Harry’s wrists day after day. He doubted he’d ever learn the meaning behind the cuts and the scars and the bracelets. He was wrong, though.  


A few days after they placed third (third! Zayn reminded himself every night for months, as he sang his heart out for sold out arenas across the globe) on The X Factor, Louis called a band meeting without Harry. Apparently, according to Louis, who had heard from Harry’s mum, Harry had depression and he was getting help.  
Zayn snorted. Harry’s help obviously wasn’t doing much good if he still cut himself.  


“Zayn, is something funny?” demanded Louis, glaring at Zayn from across the room. Zayn shook his head. “Good. Guys, I want you to treat Harry just as you did before. I’m not sure if I was supposed to tell you, since Anne was never specific as to who was allowed to know, but I figured that we’re all in this together. So…um…meeting adjourned.”  


Zayn remembers sprinting back to his room before he spent another night hugging his pillow, beseeching Allah (or the moon or the stars or anyone that was listening) for advice on what to do about Harry.

–

Somewhere between the world tours and the award shows, Zayn got tired of watching one of his best friends slowly destroy himself. So, being Zayn, he confronted Harry in the best way he knew how: he got Paul to buy him a six-pack and he knocked on Harry’s hotel room door at 3:00am. He knew that Harry would be awake. He was right.  


“Hey, Zayn, what’s up?” Harry mumbled, not looking up, but not sounding tired. Zayn ignored him, shoved a beer in his head, and walked inside. “Um…okay, cool. What’s up?”  


Zayn stared at Harry for a minute from his spot on the desk, studying him. “Nothing. Just realized I hadn’t seen you in awhile and figured I’d stop by.”  


“It’s 3:00 in the morning. And you saw me last night at, you know, the concert?”  


“I mean like really seen you. As in, a conversation. Two bros. A six-pack.”  


“We’re not watching porn.”  


“Wasn’t planning on it, I’ve got Perrie.”  


“I’ll drink to that,” smirked Harry, raising his beer can in the area before taking a sip. Zayn mimicked his action.  


“I’m going to try and be blunt, Harry.”  


“About what?” asked Harry, raising an eyebrow as he finished the can, grabbing another before he sat down on the couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table.  


“Don’t act like you don’t know,” whispered Zayn, glancing at Harry’s arms before looking back at Harry. “I know you do.”  


Harry sighed, unconsciously hiding his arms from Zayn’s sight. “Right. That.”  


“Why do you do it?”  


“I don’t know.” Harry answered, looking Zayn in the eyes.  


“Bullshit.”  


Harry chuckled. “Yeah, I guess.”  


“So, why?”  


“I don’t know. I guess it gives me a semblance of control. I can control where they go, and when. I can control what they look like and how they feel, how long they bleed and how long they hurt. I can feel them. I can’t feel much these days.”  


“I know what you mean,” Zayn agreed.  


“It’s just that…everything is happening so fast. And I get that this has been our life for what, nearly three years now? But I’m only 19 and it’s just too much, too fast, I guess. I don’t remember what anything but stress and anxiety feels like now. All the joy I used to get from singing, from performing – it’s gone.”  


“What do you feel when you…you know…cut?”  


“Nothing. Like, in comparison. Like I know it’s supposed to hurt, and so maybe it does a little, but all the stress, anxiety, and insecurity just go away. It’s like a vacation, I guess? A vacation of the nerves.”  


“I understand,” Zayn replied, because he did.

–

Since that night in the middle of Nowhere, USA, Zayn kept a sharp eye on Harry. He watched as Harry smiled and laughed with fans night after night before crashing and burning on the bus a few minutes later. He watched as Harry struggled to maintain his sanity in this crazy world that they’d been thrown into so long ago but still weren’t used to. He watched as Harry finally realized that he wasn’t the dimpled, eager 16 year old boy that auditioned for The X Factor three years ago.  


It was heartbreaking for Zayn, he was being honest with himself. Harry was the last of the boys to grow up, the last of the boys to accept that Neverland didn’t really exist. But it had to happen eventually, and while Zayn would’ve preferred not to have witnessed it, he’s glad that he did. Someone needed to remind Harry at 3:00 in the morning that there was good in the world, no matter how far away it seemed.  


For Zayn, the worst part of understanding Harry was seeing how much hate he received. Thousands of hateful tweets circulated Harry’s mentions per minute, glaring at him as he searched for a single positive tweet. He found some, obviously, but it still shocked him. He thought he’d had it bad. And maybe it was just the fact that this was Harry – his young, helpless best friend. Regardless, Zayn seethed with anger at the world until he finally got the nerve to hack Harry’s twitter and change the password.  


That didn’t last long, though. Zayn quickly gave in to Harry’s pleading eyes, and the whole thing started over again. He never could refuse Harry.  
Maybe the worst part about all of this – all of the hate, the realizations, the scars – was that Zayn felt hopeless as he watched one of his best friends, his brother, destroy himself. And, maybe, after a little while, it started to destroy Zayn too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, what are tenses? hehehe :)  
> sorry about the wait!   
> if you have any song lyrics that you'd like to see before a chapter, and you think they're relevant, feel free to leave the lyrics/song title/artist/youtube link in the comments. I'm open to suggestions :)  
> thank youuu loves xx


	3. Liam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to M and R, because there are things we can do, whether we mean to or not, and there are things we can’t do, even if we want to.

_“Lately I’ve been waking up alone,_  
 _Paint splattered teardrops on my shirt, told you I’d let them go.”_  
“Give Me Love” – Ed Sheeran

–

The funniest thing about this whole fame thing, for Liam, is that all of a sudden people have these preconceived ideas about how he acts. He’s supposedly sensitive, responsible, and hardworking, which is total bullshit if you actually got to know him. He hopes he doesn’t disappoint people too much when they meet him.  
  
These misconceptions hurt, though. They don’t hurt Liam, because his are harmless, but they hurt Louis and Harry and Zayn. The world gets these thoughts in their heads, these fictitious stories, and all of a sudden they think they know everything. Stereotypes don’t help either. Yes, Zayn has tattoos and smokes. No, he does not cheat on his girlfriend continuously. Yes, Louis is sassy. No, he is not rude to fans and people he meets.  
  
Liam thinks the worst of the fallacies are about Harry, though. For some reason that Liam can not understand, people have gotten it into their heads that simply because Harry is good looking, he must be, without exception, a manwhore. They hear about it at least once a day – whether it be from tabloids, the radio, television, management, or from interviewers. And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if the world wasn’t so cruel about it. They question Harry on it, pushing him back into a crevice that he can’t get out of.  
  
The amount of times Liam has heard Harry crying himself to sleep terrifies him. No one should be alone like that.  
  
Harry refuses help though – Liam’s tried. He refuses to let someone come to his rescue, to help him out, to tell him everything will be alright. It’s sort of respectful, in a way. Liam understands wanting to do things alone. But Liam also understands that sometimes asking for help is the bravest, most respectful thing of all. He wishes he knew how to tell Harry that. Maybe it’d help them both a little bit.

–

Sometimes, Liam really, really wants to cry. He doesn’t though. He feels that if he does he’ll be living up to the world’s perception of him, because crying means sensible, and sensible is something that he is not. Sometimes, he gives in. He thinks it’s sort of the same thing with Harry.  
  
Sometimes on the road, Liam will hear Harry coming in late at night, will hear the giggling and moaning of a person that definitely isn’t Harry. Sometimes it’s male and sometimes it’s female, but the headboard smashing against the wall makes Liam worry about Harry even more. Liam starts to wonder if Harry has let the false words of the world get to him, let it change him. He really prays that Harry’s fine, and that it’s not a one night thing.  
  
At some point during the Take Me Home Tour, Liam realizes that it’s more than occasionally now. It’s weekly, sometimes biweekly, and now he worries more than he had at any point prior in his life. Something was wrong, because this wasn’t Harry, and the Harry he knew would never do this.  
  
Liam confronts Harry one night. He walks into Harry’s hotel room and stands in front of the door, and refuses to move even when Harry begins cursing him out.  
  
“You know cursing me out won’t work.”  
  
“I figured. It was worth a shot though, right?”  
  
Liam snorted. “If I were 16, yeah.”  
  
“Whatever. So…uh…what’s up?”  
  
“Nothing. I just realized that we haven’t spoken in awhile and was wondering if you wanted to catch a movie or something.”  
  
“And by catch a movie, you mean the movie will catch us? There’s no way they’re letting us go to a movie theater.”  
  
“Right, yeah. Either way, it’d be fun. We can order room service or something.”  
  
“Oh…um…I kind of had plans. Yeah, I had plans. Maybe another night.”  
  
“You always have plans.”  
  
“No, I don’t.”  
  
“Well, maybe not planned out ahead of time. Do you honestly think I don’t hear you coming back to your room after night?”  
  
Harry walked to the sofa and sat down, staring at his feet. Liam followed him, sitting down next to him.  
  
“It’s okay, Haz. I just…can you just go one night without getting wasted and fucking a stranger? Is that okay? We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”  
  
“No, I want to. I just don’t know how.”  
  
“You don’t know how?”  
  
“It just helps me forget. That sounds so cliché, I know, but like…we’re on top of the world right now, Liam. We’re on top of the world and we can’t get down.”  
  
Liam nods, “I know. Bit scary, isn’t it?”  
  
“Yeah,” Harry mutters, chuckling darkly. “I just don’t want to fall. I don’t want to fall and crush everything around me.”  
  
“You kind of already have, though.”  
  
“What? I didn’t mean to, I thought this was a way of avoiding it, I’m sorry.”  
  
“It’s not your fault, don’t apologize. This is just your way of coping with it, I guess? I don’t know. Just remember that what people you’ve never even heard of say is bullshit.”  
  
“How do you stay so…unaffected, I guess…by what people say? They’e awful about you sometimes.”  
  
“I know myself better than they know me. I know who I am as an individual, and as long as I remind myself that, I’m fine.”  
  
“I don’t who I am anymore, Liam. I don’t recognize myself. I miss the sweatpants, the hoodies and the curls. I miss the curls.”  
  
“Why’d you cut them off?”  
  
“They made me. Said I looked like a toddler with them.”  
  
“You didn’t,” Liam chuckled, running his hand through Harry’s hair. “I miss them.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah,” Liam nodded.  
  
“I miss them too,” Harry sighed, frowning. “I want to grow them back.”  
  
“You should.”  
  
“I’ll get yelled at.”  
  
“You might.”  
  
“It’s not worth it.”  
  
“That’s where you’re wrong, Haz. I think it is.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because it’s what you want.”  
  
Harry smiled, getting up and grabbing a pair of sweatpants. “Be right back, I’m going to change.”  
  
Liam grinned, turning on the television and finding some on demand movie that he hadn’t seen yet.  
  
The next morning, he woke up, curled around Harry, Chinese takeout boxes scattered across the floor.

  


–

Over the next few weeks, Liam watched Harry. Liam watched as he showed up to rehearsal in sweatpants, as he wore hoodies, as his hair grew. Liam knew that the other boys noticed. He figured that the fans had probably noticed as well. It was hard not to – all of a sudden, the famed bromances that had been gone for so long returned in full.  
  
It was as if Harry had sort of recovered, in a way. He was himself again. And, yeah, maybe Liam heard Harry crying himself to sleep every so often. When this happened, he’d pat Harry on the back the next morning, as if to say “are you alright?” and Harry would nod and smile, before turning his attention back to whatever it was on.  
  
Liam knew that Harry would be okay. It would take time, support, and a whole lot of willpower, but Harry would be okay. He always was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiii it's been awhile, hasn't it?  
> the next, and final, update should be in the next two weeks or so. I'll have a bit more time on my hands because it'll be summer :)  
> alright thank you seen you soon loves xx


	4. Niall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to M and R, because there are things we can do, whether we mean to or not, and there are things we can’t do, even if we want to.

_“And there’s heat in the sun to see us through the rain,_  
 _Do you feel loved? Do you feel loved?”  
_ “Do You Feel Loved” – U2

–

The thing is, Niall doesn’t quite know how he feels about Harry. Like, he definitely likes him as a friend, a best friend even (and nothing more, although their relentless friends beg to differ). He just doesn’t know how he feels about how Harry acts, about what he does. He thinks Harry is a bit ridiculous, is all.  
  
And Niall gets that Harry didn’t know how to react to the fame and the constant spotlight. He didn’t’ either. Niall’s biggest problem with Harry is that sometimes it seems like Harry has forgotten they’re in a band. They’re supposed to stick together, be friends, spend time with each other. It was like that at first, too, but then Harry started drifting.  
  
Niall watched as Harry started spending less time with the band and more time with Nick and Lou and Lux and various other people that Niall didn’t really know that well, and never really bothered getting to know.

–

Maybe it wasn’t as big of a deal as he pretended it was, but Niall was frustrated by Harry’s sudden lack of interest with One Direction. Maybe Niall was too observant and too caring. It was a bad combination, being observant and caring, because Niall cared too much about everything he observed, and it sort of ended up with him being hurt some of the time (all of the time).  
  
So maybe he was too attached. But, in all honesty, while the rest of One Direction was out sauntering around the world, Niall preferred to sit in his room and watch television. When he started to miss human interaction, he’d call his friends from Mullingar or various other people he’d met since The X Factor. When he missed Harry, though, it was always a struggle to track him down.

–

Niall loved touring. He loved the crowds, the music, the constant companionship. He loved knowing where people were at certain moments during the day. He took advantage of this too – he dragged Harry down to the hotel pool in Miami. It was the best day Niall had in awhile and he liked being around Harry.  
  
Of the members of One Direction, Niall probably liked Harry the most.  
  
Harry was calm and relaxed and everything else Niall appreciated in a person. He knew how to have a good time, but was also willing to spend the night in, watching old Disney movies on the sofa.  
  
They were a good team, Niall and Harry, Harry and Niall. They had fun, they bounced around, they enjoyed being young and being famous. 

–

Somewhere along the line, Niall stopped watching Harry. He stopped observing the words he said and the things he did. That, Niall thinks, was his greatest mistake, because if he hadn’t done something so utterly stupid, maybe he would have noticed that his best friend was barely holding onto life.  
  
And maybe he did see the changes in Harry, but he refused to accept them. Harry was a constant, steady beacon in Niall’s life, and he relied on the younger boy. While Niall knew about Harry’s past – about the words and the medication and the scars and the tears – he never stopped to think that maybe history would repeat itself.  
  
But he should’ve known that history repeats itself, because he was a part of a similar repetition. Niall knows he should’ve kept his eyes open, should’ve kept observing. He knows that because he didn’t, something within Harry broke, but that maybe, just maybe, he could fix it.

–

They were in Kansas City when Niall finally opened his eyes again. Everyone involved in the tour was camped out in the hotel because it was too hot to do anything else. Niall was bored, so he ventured out of his room and eventually found himself outside Harry’s. He tapped on the door.  
  
“Haz? You in there?”  
  
Harry’s voice floated through the door. “Go away, Niall.”  
  
Niall took a step back, startled by Harry’s reaction. “Um, are you okay? Do you want food or something? I can get someone to send some up or something.”  
  
“I said go away.”  
  
“I’m okay here, thanks. I’ll just wait here until you’re ready to talk,” Niall responded calmly, sliding down the wall in front of Harry’s door, before sitting and staring calmly at it.  
  
Despite what the press likes to say, Niall is not an uncaring, egotistic individual. If anything, he cares too much, and is willing to do anything for people to be happy. Fame hasn’t changed him, and he doesn’t think it ever will. And so he sat, staring at the door, waiting for Harry to open it. The door wouldn’t be closed forever.  
  
He doesn’t know how long it took – 10, 15 minutes, maybe – but he heard shuffling behind the door before it opened slowly. He saw Harry’s face peeking out through a crack, his eyes red from crying.  
  
“Oh. You’re still here.”  
  
Niall nodded. “You okay, mate?”  
  
Harry didn’t answer. “You can come in, if you want. I’m sure the floor isn’t very comfortable.”  
  
“It’s actually not that bad,” Niall responded gratefully, standing up and following Harry into the hotel room.  
  
The room was cluttered, to say the least. Harry’s belongings were thrown around the room, as if Harry had tried desperately to find something that wasn’t even there. It shocked Niall, though. Harry was genuinely a tidy individual, and this room wasn’t anything but.  
  
“So, um,” Niall mumbled, finding a clear spot on Harry’s bed. Harry sat down on the other side of the bed, staring at his hands that were fumbling with the duvet.  
  
“Just don’t, okay? Just don’t.”  
  
“Don’t what?” Niall asked, confused.  
  
“Don’t say anything like ‘oh, management is going to be mad when they learn how messy your room is’ or ‘you’d better clean this room before Zayn finds out and makes you clean it, and the bus.’ I don’t want to hear it.” Harry snapped, eyes glaring at Niall.  
  
“I wasn’t planning on it.”  
  
“Oh,” he muttered, eyes returning to his fidgeting hands guiltily. “Sorry.”  
  
“It’s okay.”  
  
The room was silent for a few minutes, a comfortable silence that only the two of them could muster. It was nice, in a way, just being in each other’s company. Niall broke the silence, though, wanting to hear an explanation for what was going on.  
  
“You okay, Haz?”  
  
“’m fine,” Harry murmured. “Just tired.”  
  
“If there’s something wrong, you know you can tell me, right? You can trust me.”  
  
Harry looked up, and Niall finally started observing again. He silently gasped at the haunted look in Harry’s eyes. “I’m just tired, Niall.”  
  
Now, though, Niall saw through Harry’s bluff. He knew Harry wasn’t fine, and maybe he hadn’t been for a long time. He knew that Harry was broken, that Harry had been crushed by the world and tread on by the thousands of lies and harsh words about him that he was forced to read everyday.  
  
So Niall did the only thing he could think of. He moved towards Harry, and pulled him into a hug. Niall hugged Harry so tight that he didn’t think he’d ever let go, even if he wanted to. Niall hugged Harry as the younger boy cried, and as the older boy eventually followed suit.  
  
And while Niall knew Harry had cried before, from conversations and words of wisdom with the other boys, he doubted that Harry had cried like this before. Eventually, both boys fell asleep, holding onto each other as if the other would disappear.

–

Niall never found out what exactly had broken Harry for the last time. He never really wanted to, though. He just continued to care and to observe, and that seemed to be enough. Niall made it his mission to never see the haunted look in Harry’s green eyes again. It was frightening and heartbreaking, and Niall didn’t want anyone else to know what it was like to look into a pair of eyes that had seemingly given up.  
  
Harry did what Niall said to do, too. Whenever he was even the least bit sad or let down, he’d find the blonde boy, wherever he was. They would cry together and comfort each other, before waking up the next morning, arms wrapped around each other. And each morning that they woke up like this, Harry would mutter the same eight words in his ear, before they got up and continued on with their lives: “everybody needs a Niall Horan in their life.”  
  
Because Niall was Harry’s lifesaver, and Niall was finally the one that made Harry realize that things will, eventually, be okay. That while there are things he can’t do – he can’t ignore the cruel words shared about him, he can’t be invincible, he can’t pretend everything is fine when it’s not – there are some things he can do. He can smile and laugh, he can create immortal things, he can be happy.  
  
Eventually, when the rest of One Direction noticed the change in Harry (and credited themselves, before Harry told them they didn’t do shit, and it was all Niall), they put together a list entitled “things we can and things we can’t.” And each day, they would add something onto each, before they realized that anything was possible for them. They were on top of the world, and nothing could tear them down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so shit, sorry!  
> I hope to have a few more oneshots up in the next few weeks, and maybe another chaptered fic. I'm going into my junior year of high school in two months, so I'll have a bit less time, but I'm going to try and find time to keep writing.  
> love forever xx
> 
> p.s. Kansas City is totally my Take Me Home show - I couldn't resist it. :)


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